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Fatigue and relief. You are dimly aware that you should be more excited, more joyous, like the men around you. You should be joining in their songs and shouts as you ride the long road towards Anandale, home, and your father. Instead all you feel is a deep exhaustion in the core of your body, and gratitude that you did not die today.

In the distance you hear the harsh buzz of a combustion engine. An engine-cycle, its rider wearing your colors, approaches quickly from behind, leaving a trail of distressed horses in its wake, their riders calming them and casting dark looks at the engine-cyclist as he passes.

"Your Royal Highness", he says when he reaches you, a wide smile on his face. "A message from His Majesty your father".

You nod graciously. "Continue", you tell him.

"The Nebraskans have surrendered. King Simon is dead, and all his house. Their lords have declared fealty to your father. The war is over!" he declares, pride and pleasure on his face. The men around you erupt in cheers.

Even you feel the joy now. Finally, it's over. A conflict that began before you were even born, and has lasted your entire life... and you have done your part, led your men through the fiercest of the fighting, dodged Nebraskan bullets, and penetrated deep behind enemy lines to attack them from their own rear.

When your father placed you in this position of command three years ago you were little more than a boy. Now there is no doubt that you are a man; one who has killed and seen death; one whose men respect him and love him.

You wonder what a warrior prince does next when the war is over.

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